


Choose Me

by kittenmacabre



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Feelings Realization, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mace Windu Being a Jerk, Not Beta Read, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, obikin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27963266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenmacabre/pseuds/kittenmacabre
Summary: Anakin doesn't understand why Obi-Wan never takes his side. Obi-Wan doesn't understand why Anakin wants him to be on his side so badly.Basically, these idiots are in love and everything would have been a lot better if they knew how much they meant to each other.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 283





	Choose Me

Anakin had been in the shower for a long time.

Obi-Wan took a sip of his forgotten tea and grimaced to find that it had gotten cold. His hands had moved of their own fruition in making it, habitually going through the steps as soon as he and Anakin had returned to their quarters. It was nearly a sort of meditation, giving his body something to do while he tried to fortify his mind against the roiling force signature that was Anakin as he slammed through the fresher door, mumbling something about washing the day off.

Now, the tea had sat forgotten on the table for far too long as the water continued to run in the fresher. Obi-Wan frowned into the mug, and not just due to the bitterness of the tepid liquid. He remembered constant nagging and cajoling to get Anakin to bathe enough when he was a child. Even as he persuaded his padawan that he couldn’t climb into his bed covered in droid grease and sweat, Anakin had always been painfully brief with his showers. A habit borne of growing up in a desert, never quite believing that water was plentiful, as much evidence as there was to the contrary.

But the water continued to run and Obi-Wan continued to worry. He sighed as he placed his teacup on the table, closing his eyes and reaching into his mind. Although he had strengthened the barriers in his mind earlier to save himself from the onslaught that was Anakin’s emotions, he now snuck out a feeler. It traced down the path to Anakin’s mind with the ease of putting on a well-worn pair of boots, the bond between them buried deep in the foundation of his mind where it would not be easily found. Even as much as the training bond between them was supposed to be severed when Anakin was knighted, it was never fully uprooted and had sprung up again, different but stronger, almost immediately. Like it was too foundational in both his and Anakin’s mind to ever be fully weeded out without tearing out other essential parts.

Now though, as Obi-Wan reached the end of the thread that was normally overrun with Anakin’s poorly controlled emotion, it was eerily still. The tendril reached out and instantly hit against a mental plate of duristeel, so cold and hard that it seemed there was not even action on the other side.

Obi-Wan leaped to his feet so sharply that the chair he had sat in wobbled precariously, threatening to crash to the ground. He was used to being buffeted by Anakin’s mental storm clouds, sometimes so strong that he was thrown out of his friend’s mind, but this- this was something he had never experienced. It was almost as if Anakin was not there at all.

In a few long strides, Obi-Wan had closed the distance between himself and the fresher door, knocking on it insistently.

“Anakin?”

He greeted only by the continued rush of water.

“Anakin, are you alright? I don’t want to barge in…”

As the silence stretched on, Obi-Wan’s heart rate rose. Had Anakin slipped and fell? Had he hit his head? It seemed an awfully silly way for a Jedi to get injured, but Anakin had a unique way of getting into trouble.

“Anakin, I’m coming in.”

Obi-Wan pressed the button and was greeted by a wall of steamy air as the door slid open. Pushing through the doorway, he thought that maybe he had been right. Anakin was slumped against the wall of the fresher, his head slumped between his knees, face hidden by a curtain of soaked hair as the water continued to fall around him.

As Obi-Wan pushed into the fresher, uncaring that his robes were instantly soaked (honestly, he went through so many already, this was hardly the worst thing he had done), Anakin finally lifted his head. Although Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief to find that Anakin was not in fact unconscious on the shower floor, the look on Anakin’s face might have actually been worse. Where his eyes normally danced with mischief, and his mouth was either twisted in a smirk or frowning in distaste, Anakin’s face was shockingly lifeless. His eyes were rimmed with red and had none of their usual sparkle, and his mouth hung limply open as if he didn’t even have the conviction to make an expression. In the artificial light of the bathroom, even the scar across Anakin’s face, usually only adding to his dashing appearance, looked harsher.

“Anakin, what’s wrong? Are you ill?”

Obi-Wan fell to his knees in front of Anakin, still fully dressed even as the water poured over him. Usually, Obi-Wan might have been distracted by the fact that he was clothed and Anakin was decidedly not, (for no matter how many times he had seen Anakin’s body in close quarters during the war, he never truly got over its muscular planes and tanned skin), but the stricken look on Anakin’s face had all of his attention.

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan repeated when all he received was a blank stare.

“Why are you even bothering to pretend that you care?”

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. Anakin was rarely in a good mood after reporting to the council, but he had never been like this.

“Of course I care, Anakin.” Obi-Wan tried to reach out a hand to lay on Anakin’s arm, but Anakin flinched, and Obi-Wan dropped his hand.

Anakin huffed and let his head fall again. His wet hair obscured his face again but Obi-Wan heard him grumble, “I’ve seen you lie to other people enough, I would have hoped you would be smart enough to know it wouldn’t work on me.”

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan repeated helplessly. Never at a loss for words, it was a new sensation to not know the right thing to say. “I care about you.”

Anakin’s head snapped up, and this time his eyes were full of fiery rage. It was almost a relief to see emotion on his face, even if facing Anakin’s anger was sometimes akin to standing directly behind the thrusters of a starship.

“You only care about me when I’m making you look bad. I stand there getting berated by the council and you just sit there looking so… so… unphased! I’m a disappointment to the Order and you don’t seek to deny it, only stepping in when my failures make you look bad!”

“Anakin-“

“I put my life on the line every day and it's never good enough. Either I chose to save people and I disobey the Council, or I’m a perfect soldier and I have to feel people’s lives snuffed out. It’s not a choice, it’s torture! It’s clear I’m not the Chosen One anymore, I’m barely even passible as a Jedi. Mace Windu made it clear today that I would be out of the order if it weren’t for the fact that expelling the Chosen One poster boy would be publicly unpopular.”

Obi-Wan flinched inwardly. Master Windu had reached new levels of harshness with Anakin today in the council chambers. Even Master Yoda had seemed uncomfortable with the proceedings, twisting his walking stick between his hands. Although it was true, nobody and interrupted Master Windu as he made his displeasure unclear. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to interject but Anakin was not out of steam yet.

“But that’s not even the worst part you know? I could deal with the council hating me. I could even live with it if they wanted to kick me out. I could follow my padawan and do some good out there. But the worst part is watching you sit there and agree with them. You don’t even try to defend me, because you know they are right. You didn’t choose me, Master. I was thrust upon me, and you took me because you are the perfect Jedi that did as your Master wished. But at the end of the day, you agree. I’m a failure.”

By the end of Anakin’s speech, he wasn’t even yelling anymore. His voice was shaking and his lips were trembling. A fresh set of tears were threatening to spill from his red-rimmed eyes.

Obi-Wan sat dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to protest and then snapped it shut again. Truth be told, Obi-Wan had sat by as Anakin was criticized. He had sat in his usual position, one leg thrown loosely over the other with only his white knuckles on the armrest to give away how upset he was, but Anakin couldn’t have known that. Not with how strong Obi-Wan kept his mental barriers these days.

Obi-Wan couldn’t think of what to say to convince Anakin that he cared, and it seemed unlikely that he would be receptive to words anyway. From the time he was a padawan, Anakin had always communicated better through the force and with his lightsaber drawn anyway. After all, what good were words when you were in tune with the energy of the entire world?

So Obi-Wan did the only thing he could think of to show Anakin that he did care. He cared more than Anakin could ever be allowed to know. Obi-Wan threw his arms around Anakin and pulled him close.

At first Anakin went rigid in his arms, surprised by the contact as Obi-Wan was, but in a matter of seconds he melted, letting his face fall into Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

Obi-Wan could not remember the last time he had hugged Anakin like this. While Obi-Wan had certainly been affectionate with Anakin when he was a padawan, things had changed in recent years. Gone were the casual embraces and the days when Anakin would sneak into Obi-Wan’s bed at night complaining of the cold. Instead there was a professional distance between them, which seemed odd given the fact that their minds were linked. But Anakin’s need for physical affection remained. He casually ruffled Ashoka’s montrals and clapped his men on the shoulder. Obi-Wan had avoided these touches for years now, but now, as Anakin shook silently in his arms, it was clear that it had not been as easy for Anakin as he had hoped.

Obi-Wan felt warm drops sliding down his neck, and he did not think they were from the shower still running above. With a sigh, Obi-Wan ran his hands up and down Anakin’s bare back, soothing him as he did so often when he was a child. As he had often wished to do when Anakin came back from a battle looking just a little broken at the amount of carnage he had witnessed that day.

Gently, Obi-Wan used a feeler of consciousness to tap at Anakin’s mental walls again, hoping to comfort Anakin in the Force, the other language Anakin spoke more fluently than words. Obi-Wan gasped as Anakin’s consciousness immediately latched onto the feeler, his walls dissolving so fast that it gave Obi-Wan whiplash. Anakin’s blinding force signature engulfed Obi-Wan immediately, tapping at his walls as well, wanting, needing to feel that Obi-Wan’s embrace wasn’t just to placate him. Desperate to feel that Obi-Wan did care about him.

Deliberately, Obi-Wan lowered his shields (apart from that one special part of his mind that he never let anybody into). Anakin immediately surged forward, nearly tearing into Obi-Wan’s mind in a way that would have been painful if it was done by anybody but Obi-Wan’s other half in the force. If Obi-Wan’s mind wasn’t so familiar with Anakin that it barely even recognized him as an intruder.

Carefully, Obi-Wan presented Anakin with thoughts of how proud he was, of how he nearly glowed with it every time Anakin showed his compassion and strength. How he cared about Anakin and nearly held his breath anytime he was in battle. How he would be worried sick every time Anakin piloted his fighter if he was not absolutely sure that Anakin was the best star pilot in the galaxy.

Anakin’s consciousness poured into his and as he surrounded himself in these images, Obi-Wan felt for the first time Anakin’s overwhelming doubt. It was almost funny that somebody called The Hero With No Fear harbored this much anxiety, but it was true that it wasn’t a fear of injury or dying. It was a fear of failing. Of not doing whatever it was he was meant to do to balance the Force. Of not living up to expectations and letting his friends down. Of letting Obi-Wan down.

In response, Obi-Wan could only hold Anakin tighter. Anakin’s arms had come up to clutch to in Obi-Wan’s robes like they were his lifeline. How long they stayed like Obi-Wan didn’t know, but eventually, Anakin’s trembling steadied.

“Why did you never tell me you were proud of me?”

The question was mumbled so softly that Obi-Wan barely heard it, but he felt Anakin’s breath across his neck as he said it. Obi-Wan pushed that feeling away as he formed his answer.

“You were always so… headstrong. I honestly didn’t know you would care. You’ve always done what you wanted regardless of what the council said, so it didn't really occur to me that you wanted their approval.”

“I don’t want their approval.” Anakin took a shaky breath. “Just… just yours.”

The locked away feelings in the back of Obi-Wan’s mind began to rear their heads in approval, but Obi-Wan tamped them down again.

“Well, you have it.”

Anakin hummed in contentment and curled himself in closer to Obi-Wan. Now that the storm of Anakin’s emotions had calmed, although he hadn’t retreated from Obi-Wan’s mind completely, still wrapping himself in Obi-Wan’s force signature just as he was wrapped in his arms, Obi-Wan became increasingly aware of the fact that they were on the floor of a still running shower. Even more than this, Obi-Wan was hugging a very naked Anakin. He was doing it to give Anakin the comfort he clearly needed, but even so, Anakin had clearly calmed down enough that they could move to a more suitable location.

Not letting go just yet, he reached up and turned the water off, the constant pitter-patter of the water cutting out so the only noise was their breathing, Anakin’s shaky and Obi-Wan’s painfully controlled. Obi-Wan moved to extricate himself from Anakin, but his hands only curled themselves tighter in Obi-Wan’s robes and he grunted a noise of protest.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan started gently, even as he tried not to look at the water droplets running over Anakin’s shoulders, “You’ll get cold if you don’t dry off.”

The younger man just made a noise of protest and pushed his face farther into the space between Obi-Wan’s neck and shoulder in a way that made Obi-Wan suppress a shudder. It seemed that now that Obi-Wan had finally offered Anakin the physical proximity he so obviously needed, he was unwilling to let it go.

“My robes are soaked, Anakin. I’m going to have to change them at some point or they will mold.”

Anakin snorted into Obi-Wan’s neck.

“Master, you’ve left a robe on every enemy ship we have ever fought on. I don’t think you really care about them that much.”

Obi-Wan made a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh. Anakin may have been right, but now that he was distinctly less worried about Anakin, he was only going to be able to ignore the disparity in their states of dress for so long. Making a decision, Obi-Wan looped his arms under Anakin’s legs and pushed to his feet, bringing Anakin with him, before he could think better of it.

Anakin made a rather undignified squeak at the sudden change of equilibrium.

“What are you doing?” Anakin asked, tightening his legs around Obi-Wan so as not to fall, and causing Obi-Wan’s pulse to skyrocket.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

“Picking you up obviously. I couldn’t just leave you on the fresher floor forever. You’d get all pruny,” Obi-Wan commented lightly, depositing Anakin on the counter and turning to grab a towel before he could stare.

He tossed the towel to Anakin and began to take off his sodden outer robe. Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan could see Anakin running the towel through his unruly hair.

“Master,” Anakin started, sounding far more steady than earlier, but still far from his normal confident tone, “Why- why had it been so long since you let me in? I mean, I can still feel in the Force so easily but you keep your walls up all the time.”

Obi-Wan ran a towel over his own face, trying to buy himself time and finding he didn’t quite know what to say.

“And, well, you’ve just been so distant.” Anakin’s tone made him sound almost like the small child he had been when he was first brought to the Jedi temple, so far from home and so unsure, and Obi-Wan felt a crack form in his heart. “It made me think that I had done something wrong. That maybe… maybe you regretted training me.”

Obi-Wan whipped back around to face Anakin, who luckily had wrapped his towel around his waist by now.

“No,” Obi-Wan bit out more forcefully than he meant to, and Anakin’s eyes went wide. “I will never regret that. You could never do anything that would make me regret that.”

“Then… why?” Anakin’s tone was pleading.

“Because, I- I needed to let you be yourself.” Obi-Wan started, but he frowned when it didn’t seem quite right. “Because you’re no longer my padawan, you’re a grown man, and that’s been… hard for me. I wanted you to have space to spread your wings and not being able to be with you all the time when you did it hurt. Because… because it was easier to close off my mind to you than constantly be connected to you but not have you close. I couldn’t stand having you near but so far away.”

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, he had said too much. It was like once the floodgates were open, they couldn’t be closed. Anakin was staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes so he didn’t have to look at him.

“Obi-Wan, I am near you. I mean, we still share rooms and so many of our missions are together. What kind of close do you mean?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, eyes still closed, but he could feel the change in the air as Anakin moved towards him, crossing into what little space he had in the small fresher.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin repeated, and Obi-Wan opened his eyes to find Anakin standing very close indeed. Close enough that he had to look up a bit to meet Anakin's eyes.

“What is in the part of your mind you never let me see?”

Obi-Wan jolted, and Anakin offered him a small smile.

“Your shields may be strong, but they aren’t invisible.”

At that, Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s consciousness caress the walls of the deepest place in his mind. They didn’t knock or push, just ran along the edges of it, as if they might be able to guess at the contents by the feel alone. Maybe Anakin could.

“Let me see,” Anakin asked gently.

Obi-Wan wanted to refuse. He wanted to slam down his shields and run from the room. He wanted to bury these memories and deny he had ever let Anakin so close, but something in Anakin’s gaze stopped him. Something warm in his eyes and something light in the way he asked. Something almost akin to… hope. Maybe Obi-Wan was imagining it, but he couldn’t escape the feeling that this was the moment. That if he did not take down this final layer of protection, he would lose Anakin forever. And he would not lose him.

And so, closing his eyes, Obi-Wan reached deep inside himself and tugged at the walls around his feelings. The shields stuck, like a door that was hard to open after rust had overtaken the hinges, and Obi-Wan had to tug at them insistently. They had been anchored in place so thoroughly that it felt like Obi-Wan was uprooting some of himself, but as they finally gave way a rush of feelings overtook him so forcefully that he gasped with the impact.

He felt Anakin pour into the memories, the thoughts, the cherished moments. He saw Anakin through his own eyes, the day he had been knighted and felt the same warm feelings of pride and joy in his chest. There was the memory of the time he had watched Anakin, sprawled on the floor of their room, tongue stuck out in concentration as he fixed some droid or other, and how Obi-Wan had watched him for longer than he should have when Anakin wasn’t looking. There was the rage he had felt at Ventress when she had injured Anakin, the feeling that he would burn the world down to get Anakin back. There was the time he had managed to pin Anakin to the floor during a sparring session, and the feeling of his warm body under his thighs had left Obi-Wan squirming in bed that night, a hand down his pants and a fist in his mouth as he tried desperately to stay quiet enough that Anakin wouldn’t hear.

Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped open at that last memory, ready to see Anakin’s horror, but found that he was standing there slack-jawed, eyes wide in something that looked almost like wonder.

“You…” Anakin paused, like he couldn’t find the right word, “want me.”

“More than anything.”

Obi-Wan thought it would feel like a betrayal to say it. A betrayal to the Order, and a betrayal to the man that he was supposed to protect and think of like a brother. Instead, it felt… right. Like the truest thing he had said in a while.

Anakin stood very still, and Obi-Wan braced himself for the sting rejection, of knowing that things would always be strained between them now. Somehow feeling at peace with the fact that he could now go to his grave knowing that Anakin at least knew that somebody cared for him so deeply.

Instead, when Anakin finally moved, it was to touch Obi-Wan’s lips to his.

Obi-Wan stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped thinking. And as the world stood still for a moment, everything snapped into place.

Then Obi-Wan was kissing Anakin too, pushing him back until Anakin’s legs hit the counter behind him. Anakin’s hands came up to cup Obi-Wan’s face while Obi-Wan’s ran over Anakin’s back, his shoulders, his cheeks, anything he could reach.

When Obi-Wan finally delved his fingers in Anakin’s curls as he had always dreamed of in the darkest and most private hours of the night, Anakin broke the kiss with a strangled moan. Obi-Wan took the opportunity to move his lips over to Anakin’s sharp jawline, tasting his skin, nipping softly and letting his tongue dart out to soothe it.

“You want me,” Anakin repeated incredulously, and Obi-Wan hummed as he ran his lips over the thick tendon on the side of Anakin’s neck.

“I was afraid that you knew I thought of you this way too,” Anakin panted, “That it was what had pushed you away.”

Obi-Wan tore his lips away from Anakin’s neck to press their foreheads together.

“Anakin,” he breathed. “I could not want to be with you more if my life depended on it. Tell me what you want from me and you can have it.”

Anakin took a shaky breath and looked into Obi-Wan’s eyes with as much sincerity as Obi-Wan had ever seen him muster. Anakin’s fingers were shaking as he caressed the Obi-Wan’s cheek gently.

“Everything. I want everything, Master.”

This time, it was Obi-Wan who initiated the kiss. His hands diving back into Anakin’s hair as he kissed him deeply, slowly, thoroughly.

When Obi-Wan swiped his tongue across Anakin’s lower lip, Anakin made a wounded sound and opened his mouth for Obi-Wan to lick into. Obi-Wan stroked Anakin’s tongue with his own, letting them tangle together until he could feel Anakin shaking, propping himself up on the counter for support.

In response, Obi-Wan hooked his hands under Anakin’s thighs and picked him up for the second time this evening. Anakin was clearly still unused to the sensation, but this time the noise he let out was far more a whimper than a squeak as his hard length rubbed up against Obi-Wan’s stomach through the towel still wrapped around his waist.

As Obi-Wan broke their kiss to carry Anakin out of the fresher, Anakin took the opportunity to explore Obi-Wan’s neck with his mouth, nipping and sucking in a way that was sure to leave marks. In a way that was so distinctly Anakin that Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or combust. As Obi-Wan walked them into the room, he could feel his own very erect member rubbing against his wet pants in a way that was almost painful it felt so good. Trying to concentrate on not dropping Anakin, Obi-Wan walked them towards his bedroom before hesitating. Was that too much of an expectation? Was that what Anakin wanted?

Reading his thoughts, Anakin pulled his lips and tongue away from Obi-Wan’s neck.

“When I said everything, I meant it Master.”

Anakin calling him Master shouldn’t have made his cock pulse like that, but it did and Obi-Wan bit back a groan as he carried Anakin to his bed and deposited him.

Anakin bounced with the weight of the short fall and the towel slipped from his hips, leaving Anakin already fully bare on Obi-Wan’s bed, and Obi-Wan almost combusted from the sight alone. Anakin’s lips were red and wet, slightly parted as he panted. Anakin’s curls had started to dry in a haphazard way that made him look thoroughly debauched even though they had done little but kiss already. Obi-Wan had to swallow as his eyes drifted downwards to Anakin’s cock, already flushed red as it rested on his stomach. He could see a drop forming at the head of it and Obi-Wan licked his lips.

He had seen Anakin naked plenty before, but nothing could have prepared him for this. How it looked to have Anakin in his bed, already splayed open and bare like he was hungry for Obi-Wan. His eyes glimmering as he looked Obi-Wan up and down.

“This is hardly fair,” Anakin commented as he propped himself up on his elbows, looking at Obi-Wan still fully dressed, although completely soaked.

Carefully, Obi-Wan began to undo his belt before slowly unwinding his tabards. While he was tempted to rip them off, wanting to feel Anakin’s warm skin under his body immediately, he slowed himself, deliberately trying to calm himself so he could enjoy every glorious moment of what was about to happen. Of Anakin wanting him. Of his fantasies becoming reality, instead of being relegated to stolen moments of thrusting into his own fist and wishing it was Anakin even while his face heated with shame.

Obi-Wan could take his time, learn every part of Anakin’s body that he had ever dared to imagine. By the time Obi-Wan pushed his pants down his thighs, he felt less like he was about to shatter out of his skin in a million directions, but the way that Anakin licked his lips as Obi-Wan’s cock sprang into view still nearly did him in.

Based on the way Anakin did, well, everything in his life, Obi-Wan halfway expected to be bowled over by Anakin. For everything about this experience to be fast and overwhelming and so much. Instead, Anakin reached one flesh hand out to gently run his fingers over Obi-Wan’s length. For how strong Anakin was, his touch was achingly soft (although it still made Obi-Wan hiss in a breath through his teeth). Anakin looked up through half-lidded eyes, questioning, waiting for permission, and somehow still ravenous.

With the breath completely knocked out of him by Anakin’s expression, it was all Obi-Wan could do to nod in response to Anakin’s silent question. In response, the fingers trailing the faintest pattern over the skin of his cock grasped around him and Obi-Wans weight fell onto his hands, so he was hovering over Anakin. It took every ounce of iron discipline he had to not close his eyes against the warm, electric sensation as the hand began to stroke him slowly, but it was worth it.

Anakin was looking down in fascination to where his hand languidly worked Obi-Wan’s member, his curls all but concealing his dark eyes, a tiny bit of pink tongue visible where it stuck out between Anakin’s lips in concentration. Obi-Wan’s eyes traced the blush down Anakin’s golden skin onto his chest, before going lower to realize that Anakin still had his signature leather glove covering this mechanoarm. Struck by the inescapable need to see every inch of his lovely Anakin, Obi-Wan moved a hand to the buckles, working them with unpracticed fingers. They resisted him, as if they had not been undone in a long time, but he found the catches and they began to release under his fingers.

Noticing what he was doing, Anakin’s hand slowed and Obi-Wan felt a lance of apprehension from Anakin’s very open mind, but Obi-Wan pressed back as much assurance as he could muster, accidentally sending over a wave of his own hunger that caused Anakin’s eyes to flutter shut and his head to fall back on the pillow as a groan ripped its way out of his throat. Even as Obi-Wan was distracted by the arch of Anakin’s neck, he managed to focus enough to slip the worn leather off the mechanical arm, throwing it off the bed to disappear into some dark corner of the room.

Despite the reassurance and warmth Obi-Wan was pushing down the bond, he still felt a trickle of something bitter from Anakin’s end. Something that tasted too much like shame.

“You’re beautiful, dearest,” Obi-Wan murmured, the endearment falling from his lips before his brain had even registered.

Anakin’s eyes opened to look at Obi-Wan, something in them still seeming disbelieving, and Obi-Wan responded by lifting the golden fingers to his lips and kissing the tips of them one by one. Obi-Wan felt a shudder run through Anakin’s body where it was trapped between his thighs in response. Emboldened, he took the tip of a finger into his mouth entirely, the metal cool against his pursed lips even as his tongue swiped over the pad.

Anakin moaned again, more raged this time, and his flesh hand fell from Obi-Wan’s cock as if he simply didn’t have the focus to coordinate his own movements anymore. Obi-Wan took the opportunity to lower his own free hand to Anakin’s length. He ran his thumb over the head and the wetness beaded there before giving it a few experimental strokes. Anakin was already nearly panting as Obi-Wan let go of Anakin’s cock in favor of trailing his fingers even lower. Anakin shuddered again and Obi-Wan pulled the finger from his mouth with a wet pop.

“Have you ever done this before?” Obi-Wan asked gently as the man beneath him continued to tremble, although in anticipation or something else, it was hard to tell.

“Not with a… Not like this. No.” Anakin licked his lips, suddenly looking apprehensive.

Obi-Wan moved to withdraw his hand.

“We don’t have to,” he started, but Anakin grabbed his wrist stopping him.

“Please Master,” he whispered, “I didn’t want to scare you away. I want this.”

Obi-Wan hesitated only for the barest of moments before his fingers resumed their journey back to Anakin’s entrance, reassured by the sincerity he felt in Anakin’s mind. Not to mention, he could scarcely remember the last time he had ever heard Anakin say please.

“I guess I just get to take my time with you,” Obi-Wan mused, running a finger around Anakin’s tight ring of muscle. In response to Anakin’s choked sounding whine, Obi-Wan repositioned himself, dropping Anakin’s mechanoarm in favor of kneeling between his legs, but not before reaching up to snatch a few packets of bacta gel out of his bedside table. Anakin looked at him quizzically, but Obi-Wan just raised a brow.

“You never figured why the men go through so much?” Obi-Wan teased.

  
“Master,” Anakin groaned in response, but it turned into another whine as Obi-Wan squeezed the cool gel over Anakin’s crease. Running his fingers along Anakin soothingly, he began to work him open with one finger. By the time he was one knuckle deep, Anakin was already squirming, and Obi-Wan could not contain the way his cock throbbed at how sensitive his lovely Anakin was. Deciding to give Anakin some relief, he used his other hand to stroke up and down Anakin’s still leaking cock. He slid his finger in the rest of the way in times with his strokes, and Anakin let out a breathy sound unlike anything he had heard so far.

“So good,” Obi-Wan heard himself saying. “So good for me my dearest, my Anakin.”

Anakin squirmed and panted in response.

“More,” he choked out in a way that was so decidedly Anakin that Obi-Wan nearly laughed even as he worked another fingertip past the man’s clenching rim to join the other.

By the time Obi-Wan had worked three fingers inside Anakin, he was pushing himself down on them, head thrown back to spread his curls around the pillow like a halo, letting out an array of noises that Obi-Wan would store away and cherish during every lonely night on the battlefront. It was so much that Obi-Wan had to remove his other hand from stroking Anakin to hold the base of himself, keeping himself from releasing at the sight alone.

Finally, he removed his fingers from Anakin’s now pliant body. He let out a noise of protest at the loss but Obi-Wan reassured him as he quickly squeezed another packet of bacta onto himself, working it over his length a few times.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here dearest,” he murmured as he moved back up Anakin’s body, taking the opportunity to plant a wet kiss onto the side of his neck, the soft spot behind his ear, his lips.

Taking one of Anakin’s legs, he braced it over his shoulder, giving himself access to every inch of Anakin.

Anakin squirmed, his rim catching on Obi-Wan’s head in a way that made them both gasp.

“Shh, relax,” Obi-Wan soothed, “Let me.”

And so he lined himself up and began to sink into Anakin’s perfect, tight heat. Even as Anakin groaned, his body swallowed Obi-Wan up as if it were trying to suck out his very soul. By the time that Obi-Wan had bottomed out, he was not even sure if he still inhabited a body or if he had simply melted into the Force in feelings of tightness, and warmth, and Anakin. Only as Anakin began to roll his hips impatiently did Obi-Wan come back to himself enough to respond, slowly withdrawing part way only to push in again. They continued like this, building up a languid rhythm, that allowed Obi-Wan to feel every clench of Anakin’s rim. He could feel Anakin’s pleasure echoed back to him in the Force, as the feeling of fullness he felt starting spilling through their thoughts like shimmering molten gold.

Anakin’s hands were stroking over Obi-Wan’s beard, his hair, his chest, the metal one digging into his shoulders, his hips, the fleshy part of his ass. He felt surrounded, completely engulfed by Anakin, both physically and in the Force. It was so much that he couldn’t breathe, but he also couldn’t imagine how he could breathe when he wasn’t sharing his body, his soul with Anakin.

It was not long before their pace quickened, both fueled by the reverberating feelings of rightness at being together like this. As Obi-Wan’s hips began to snap into him, Anakin brought a hand up as if to stroke himself, but only managed a loose fist around himself, too overwhelmed to do much besides let out those beautiful, sacred whimpers that were quickly making Obi-Wan lose his mind.

Knowing he wouldn’t last much longer and realizing exactly what Anakin needed, Obi-Wan brushed away Anakin’s hand to stroke him himself, once, twice, three times before Anakin let out a long, broken keen. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if it was the sight of Anakin’s face as he tipped over the edge, the sudden clench around his own cock, or the feeling of a supernova erupting in the back of his brain that caused him to tip over the edge, but then he was falling too. White-hot pleasure lanced up his spine, and the only word he could think of fell from his lips again and again.

“Anakin.”

By the time Obi-Wan had his wits about him, his arms were shaking so much that it was a miracle he managed to pull out Anakin and roll to the side without crushing on him. Still, Anakin did not seem as though he would have minded being crushed as he instantly rolled to follow him, tucking his head under Obi-Wan’s chin and tangling their legs together. Obi-Wan could feel the dampness from Anakin’s release pressed between their chests, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the mess. Not when it was proof that Anakin was here and wanted this from him. Not when he buried his face in Anakin’s hair and finally took in his fill of the comforting smell that clung to him.

As their breathing settled into a matching rhythm, fractals of pleasure still bounced around their bond, slowly dulling into a warm pulse of affection, and trust, and something that they would name someday soon, but not quite yet. And that was alright because they both felt it in the ways that mattered.

Now when Obi-Wan stroked down their well-worn bond, there was no trace of Anakin’s iron-clad walls to be found and the clouds in his force signature only offered a gentle drizzle that would heal the cracked parts of them both, as they wrapped around each other. Anakin gave a contented hum and nuzzled deeper into his chest and Obi-Wan wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him close. Just before they both drifted off, Obi-Wan made a promise to himself.

Anakin would never doubt that he was loved again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi team! Thanks for reading. This is my first Obikin fic so I hope you enjoyed it. I've been deep in the Obikin dumpster recently so I had to get it all out in an idea vomit. Let me know what you think!
> 
> If you're into it, I also have two Reylo fics ongoing you can check out. If you like my writing, stay tuned for updates on my first original novel. Publishing details soon! Thanks so much and love to all!


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